


Want

by tylerfucklin (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 11:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tylerfucklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles tensed, steeling himself and jutting his chin out defiantly. “You know what I want.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want

**Author's Note:**

> Another tumblr inbox prompt fill :>

Stiles should have seen this coming, he really should have.  
  
“ _Who,_ ” Derek barked, fingers curled into the front of Stiles’ shirt just long enough to get a good grip before he was shoving Stiles backwards. Stumbling, Stiles felt his feet leave the ground completely in Derek’s mad rush to apparently have him pinned to the nearest vertical surface. “Tell. Me.”  
  
Stiles’ words caught in his throat, too many to focus on one, and they all left him in a rush when his back hit the wall next to his door.  
  
“Why does it matter? I mean, I get that you’re alpha and all and whatever you say goes but dude _really_ , like Scott has Allison and you don’t say shit to Jackson or Lydia when they go off with someone else to make each other jealous. I get that I’m human  and all that shit but like, come on, man, I’m not a fucking pet or something! You can’t expect me to sit around on my _virgin ass_ until you decide I’m old enough to —”  
  
“ _Stiles!_ ” Derek roared, giving Stiles a rough shake that made his brain rattle and his words jumble. In all honesty, he wouldn’t mind giving Derek a name if he was sure the guy wouldn’t wolf out and possibly maul Stiles’ current makeout-buddy. Really, it was only one time, and Stiles had stopped it the second that Elliot had started sucking a hickey into his neck.  Whatever he and Derek had, it never went past hugs and Derek’s habit of rubbing his nose into Stiles’ skin. Derek refused to even kiss him, reminding Stiles constantly that he was so young and innocent and how Derek wouldn’t take advantage of him.  
  
“What?” Stiles snapped, hands flying up and fingers curling around Derek’s to pry them off his shirt. “I’m not going to _wait_ , Derek! I’m not - I’m not going to wait years and years for you and have you decide that you didn’t want me after all!”  
  
Derek’s upper lip curled back, nose crinkling in such a wolfish manner that Stiles felt a spike of terrified anticipation that he was going to transform at any second. His knees buckled, legs going weak before Stiles could control them. Stiles echoed the snarl that came from Derek’s mouth with one of his own, pooling all of his strength and shoving back. Derek didn’t budge at first, not until Stiles pressed halfway back against the wall to bolster himself and push with every muscle in his body  
  
It took Derek by surprise, and he stumbled back, tripping over Stiles’ backpack and dragging Stiles along for the ride when he crashed to the ground. Stiles went with it, hands pinning Derek to the ground using all the weight in his upper body. Derek’s eyes flashed, a stifled roar breaking past his lips as he surged forward to flip them both. Stiles, for once, thanked all the roughhousing he’d done in lacrosse practice, because it helped him remember to plant one foot down and slam his heel into Derek’s shoulder to keep him on his back.  
  
Somewhere from his ADHD-riddled brain, Stiles could recall reading an article somewhere about a technique called alpha rolling, and how dominant dogs refused to be pinned helplessly on their back.  
  
“ _No,_ ” Stiles snapped, breathing heavily through his nose and giving Derek another forceful shove back, “Stop trying to control me!.”  
  
“I’m not!” Derek spat, hand flying up to knock Stiles’ arm back. He used the momentum to flip them, shoving Stiles to the ground so hard that his head cracked painfully against the carpeted floor of his room. His hands grappled at Stiles’ collarbone, fingernails on the brink of becoming claws digging into his skin. “I’m trying to do this _right!_ ”  
  
“Do _what_ right?!” Stiles cried, writhing and pressing his feet into the ground to try and buck Derek off of his hips. “Protect my chastity? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m probably the only virgin in the school - and it isn’t by choice! This- fuck, Derek! This isn’t some kind of fucking fairytale!” Stiles reached out, shoving at Derek’s shoulders  before he found his wrists captured and slammed into the ground. Humiliation burned hot inside of him,  stretching through his body and trying to eat him whole. “I’m not some kind of weak princess that wants to save herself! You keep treating me like a girl and _I’m not_!”  
  
“You’re a child!” Derek argued, irises flickering red and his muscles trembling as he tried to keep Stiles pinned down and his wolf trapped inside.   
  
“No, dude, I’m not!” Stiles countered, kicking his legs out and panting for the air that wouldn’t reach his lungs. “I’ve been kidnapped, held at knifepoint, attacked by wolves, attacked by hunters - my life has been a proverbial fucking shitstorm since the day I met you! I’m not a kid anymore, Derek! If you won‘t see that now, I‘m not going to wait for the day you will!” Stiles’ voice cracked before he could even finish the sentence, eyes wet and burning, his lower lip shaking so hard it took everything he had not to let the sob inside of his chest break through. Derek was silent, staring down at Stiles and looking so wrecked that Stiles went utterly still beneath him, chest heaving.  
  
Derek dragged his breath in through his nose, expression intense; like he was trying to pry Stiles’ mind apart and expose the deepest, most hidden parts of him.  
  
Stiles squirmed, sucking in a breath that got stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat, trying to say something else when Derek jerked his head down and snatched Stiles’ mouth in a kiss that was more teeth than anything. Stiles stiffened, bottom lip caught between Derek’s teeth, where it was pulled back and then released so that Derek could shift and kiss him fully. He curled his fingers, clutching Derek’s shirt into his fists and using it to pull himself up, mouth opening under Derek’s submissively before he was really thinking about what he was doing.  
  
The body above his shook with a rumbling growl that tore itself straight out of Derek’s chest, sending tremors through Stiles’ fingers and down his arms. Derek’s right hand moved down, clawing at the hem of Stiles’ shirt and wrenching it up so that he could run his palms over every bit of skin he could find. His nails raked across Stiles’ stomach, catching in his navel and dragging up and up until Stiles jerked at the feel of his nipples being scratched and pinched. He whined, high in the back of his throat, and snagged Derek’s upper lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth greedily. Derek snagged his hips, wrenching Stiles up from under his body to resettle onto his thighs so he didn’t have to bend as awkwardly. Stiles arched, hands scrambling and digging into the hair at the base of Derek’s head, head muzzy and his heart thundering a mile a minute.  
  
A sharp bite to his lip was what tore Stiles from his lust-muddled brain, wrenching back with a gasp and pushing firmly at Derek to stop him from leaning in. “No- _no_ , you can’t.” Stiles panted, shaking his head. “Not when I don’t know if you’re even going to mean it.”  
  
“What?” Derek growled, reaching up to pull Stiles’ hand from his chest by the wrist.  Stiles swallowed heavily,  hips twitching with the desire to roll up into Derek’s.  
  
“Pushing me around and shutting me up isn’t going to make the problem go away, dude.”  Stiles wriggled, pushing and squirming his way out from under Derek because if he stayed under him any longer, his attention span was going to suffer phenomenally.   
  
Getting to his feet, Stiles stared down at where Derek was still kneeling with tensed lips and a furrowed brow. He took a step back, holding his hands up like it was going to keep Derek from advancing somehow. “You don’t want me fucking around? Fine,” Stiles watched Derek get to his feet, taking a half-step back for every full step that Derek made towards him, “that’s great, that’s wonderful, but I think we need to have a feelings-fest or something around here because, hey, I’m not a girl and all but I’m not going to go boo-hoo crying in a corner eating _ice cream_ when you, like, stop talking to me or whatever after you get your fix or something.”  
  
Every word that left Stiles’ mouth was enunciated by his backwards shuffle until his calves hit his bed as Derek crowded up close to him. Stiles’ throat felt painfully dry, lips throbbing with the pulse of his heart. He licked them, breath hitching when Derek was suddenly in his space, eyes bright, and reaching out to grab Stiles by the arms.  
  
“You wanted this,” Derek muttered  lowly, “You’re the one not making sense - you say you want this and then you push me away.”  
  
Stiles tensed, steeling himself and jutting his chin out defiantly. “You know what I want.”  
  
The hands on his biceps tightened painfully before Derek gave him a violent shake. “Do you want me to say this will last forever? That I’m going to fuck you and then we’re going to ride off into the sunset together like some kind of fantasy romance?” Derek hissed angrily. “That’s not going to happen, Stiles, because you’re going to get sick of me eventually, you’re going to hate me for taking this away from you if I do this.”  
  
Anger roiled inside of Stiles, so strong that he was sure if he were a werewolf, he’d have started shifting. He snarled, jerking his arms out of Derek’s hold and shoving at his chest as if Derek wasn’t built like a brick shithouse and could actually be moved without the proper leverage. Derek slapped his hands away, snatching Stiles by the back of the head and wrenching him forwards so that their noses almost brushed. “Is that what you want, Stiles? You want to think this is going to be some perfect little romance like in all those stories you read? I’m a werewolf. You’re human. No matter what you think now, it won’t last!”  
  
“Don’t put words in my mouth!” Stiles lashed out, palms slamming into Derek’s chest for the umpteenth time. “Who gives a fuck is some bitch destroyed your life, Derek!? Do- like - do you honestly think that I’m going to do that? That I would- that I would fucking HURT you like that?” Stiles could feel his face burning, his heart sending an ache through him with every useless pump that it gave. His fingers curled into fists, punching hopelessly against Derek’s body, even though it was like hitting an immovable barrier. Derek was silent, holding tightly to Stiles’ head, not even bothering to stop Stiles from hitting him anywhere he could; chest, shoulders, collarbone.  
  
Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, cursing softly, “That- _jesus_ , Derek, you tell me to get the fuck over shit and then you turn around and let some shit that happened to you years ago stop you from ever trying again?”  
  
It was as if something had robbed every sound from the air when Stiles finally stopped to gasp for air, arms shaking as they fell limply to his sides. Derek pressed their foreheads together, nails digging gently into the back of his skull to try and disguise the barely-there tremor that was vibrating through them.  Stiles pursed his lips, sniffling and biting the inside of his cheek.   
  
Slowly, one of Derek’s hands curled around to his jaw line, thumb swiping underneath of his eyelid and chasing away the tears that had stuck to his lower eyelashes.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry, Stiles.”  
  
For once, Stiles didn’t have any words to say, nothing but an empty feeling inside of him that felt all-consuming. Derek nudged forward, head tilting to the side to press their lips together with the utmost care, asking permission instead of taking. Stiles dug his fingers into Derek’s chest, pressing through the fabric and into flesh as if he could reach and reach inside and pull out that scarred, blackened heart beneath and expose it for all to see.  
  
Derek pitched forward, pushing Stiles back onto the bed and kissing him with an increased fervor. Stiles’ head spun, overwhelmed, and he opened his mouth willingly, sob stifled when Derek’s tongue rolled past his lips and over his teeth.  
  
He clawed at Derek’s shirt, stitching popping in the collar before Derek pulled away with a low growl and reached down to wrench it  over his head. Stiles gasped for air, arms rising instinctively when Derek went to do the same with his, tossing it across the room and bending to latch his mouth onto Stiles’ throat. Stiles buried his fingers into Derek’s hair, tugging and groaning when he felt the painful scrape of teeth nipping at his skin, coaxing blood to the surface.   
  
Derek’s hands found purchase on the thin curve of Stiles’ hips, grabbing and dragging him further up the bed. They shifted, Derek slipping between Stiles’ thighs and draping himself over the thin, squirming body beneath him. Stiles gasped softly, arching up and feeling his entire nervous system burn alight in reaction to the heavy pressure and warm flesh pressing him into the bed. He tilted his head back, shoulders bunching as Derek mouthed across his throat to the pulse point under his jaw. Stiles rocked his hips up, hissing at the burst of electric friction that resulted. Derek made a low rumble echoing the movement and grinding down. He nipped at Stiles’ chin before kissing him wetly, tongue swiping at the corners of Stiles’ mouth.  
  
Grasping at Stiles’ thigh, Derek pulled it up and over his hip, shifting just the tiniest bit and finding that perfect groove to thrust down against Stiles and force a moan out of the both of them.   
  
“Fuck,” Stiles gasped into Derek’s mouth, “I’m not- _ohgod_ \- big on creaming my pants, dude.” He gasped between kisses. Derek huffed, hands moving to fumble with Stiles’ fly, wrenching the button out and pulling away so he could tug them off with a forceful jerk. Stiles yelped, legs flying up at the action before they fell back onto the bed. Derek stared down at him, bare chest heaving with each breath he sucked in through his nose. Stiles felt exposed, boxers tented and his body shaking with a nervous, aroused anticipation that seemed to be engulfing him. The reality of the situation struck, and Stiles reacted on instinct as he rolled halfway on his stomach to fumble for his nightstand drawer, squeaking when he felt Derek’s large palms cupping his ass through his boxers and kneading the muscle.  
  
Stiles’ fingers snagged the bottle of lube that  he’d driven all the way out of town to buy a month prior, freezing when Derek’s fingers hooked into the elastic of his underwear and dragged it over his ass. Derek pushed Stiles onto his stomach, kissing at his tailbone and spreading him open with his thumbs. Stiles squirmed, gasping and clutching the bottle with a stifled groan as Derek mouthed the pucker of his entrance, kissing and then laving his tongue wetly over it.  
  
“Christ, dude,” Stiles breathed, arching up into the feeling at the same time he pulled at his bed sheets to try and get away from it. Derek reached between Stiles’ legs, tongue wriggling its way into his entrance while he grasped the base of Stiles’ cock, pumping him firmly. “Oh _my god_.” Stiles clenched instinctively at the intrusion, dick twitching in Derek’s hand.  
  
Derek groaned, mouthing wetly at Stiles’ hole as he rolled and twisted his tongue as deep as he could get it. The hand that wasn’t jerking Stiles came up to massage the underside of his balls, squeezing and rolling them with just enough force that Stiles’ thighs began to tremble violently.  Stiles gasped, so tense that his left calf leg began to cramp up, pain shooting up his leg and making Stiles wrench away from Derek with a soft whimper. Derek pulled away, palm wrapping around the twitching leg and rubbing the muscle  soothingly, his other hand kneading and pressing at Stiles’ ass, enraptured at the way it shuddered and flexed under his fingertips. Stiles’ exhaled heavily when his leg stopped cramping, pressing his bottom up into Derek’s hand and reaching behind himself to hand over the bottle of lubricant.     
  
“Stiles,” Derek croaked, taking the lube and sounding like he wanted to protest. Stiles tensed, looking over his shoulder and scowling.  
  
“Dude, _seriously?_ Your tongue was just in my ass, don’t even think about asking if I’m sure.”  
  
Derek huffed, biting down on a grin and opening the lubricant. “Smartass,” he muttered under his breath.  
  
“We’ve established this, now are you going to do something about it?” Stiles, wriggled his hips just the tiniest bit, eyebrows up to his hairline with an expectant look. Derek didn’t really think much about what he was doing before he was bringing his hand down against Stiles’ ass with a loud crack - a fraction harder than what would be deemed a swat.   
  
The yelp that came from Stiles quickly stuttered off into a broken gasp that made both of them stiffen. Derek watched, enraptured, as a red welt started to form along the side of Stiles’ bottom - watched as Stiles buried his face into his pillow and drew in a shaking breath - and grinned.   
  
“Kinky, much?”  
  
“Oh, like you’re any better!” Stiles spat weakly, the muscles in his ass quivering. Derek growled low in his chest, palm snapping out and swatting right over the handprint that was already there. Stiles choked on another cry, chest dipping down and his legs straining upwards in a movement that could only be instinctual. Bending down, Derek pressed his lips against the welt, kissing where the skin was hottest. Stiles shoved his knuckles against his mouth, trying to muffle his soft cry the second Derek’s mouth opened and he started to run his tongue along the outline of his own hand print.   
  
Derek dragged his palms up Stiles’ thighs and back down again, scraping his teeth against red, swollen flesh - encouraged by the soft whines that Stiles couldn’t quite muffle. He growled, breathing heavily through his nose and giving Stiles a quick slap to his other asscheck. Stiles yelped, jerking underneath of him and scrambling to pull himself away, a hand sliding between his legs to try and hide the fact that his cock was thick and heavy, twitching against his stomach in pleasure from each strike.  
  
Grabbing the discarded bottle of lube, Derek opened it with his free hand while the other was occupied with spreading Stiles open, thumbing the pucker of his entrance experimentally. Stiles’ toes curled, one hand clenched around the base of his dick while he had the other hooked over his own shoulder as if to keep himself grounded.  Derek’s chest vibrated, rumbling with satisfaction at how painfully tight Stiles’ body clamped around him when he started to press in that first slick finger. Stiles burrowed his face into his pillow, muscles fluttering around it as he tried to figure out how to react to the intrusion.  
  
“Relax,” Derek murmured, pressing his chest up against Stiles back at the same time he began to work his finger in and out of Stiles’ body, loosening him up. “Stop fighting it.”  
  
Stiles opened his mouth, a witty, sarcastic retort on his tongue that turned into a choked cry when Derek’s finger pressed firmly against his prostate. Jerking, he clawed at his sheets and rocked back into that feeling, trying to chase it as Derek withdrew. “Nnhg, c’mon, I won’t break. I’m like Ironman, only I’m not made of iron and instead soft squishy parts that - _ohfuck_ ,” Stiles bit down on his lip, eyes clenching shut the second he felt two fingers push their way inside, scissoring and stretching. Derek grinned, watching the way the muscles in Stiles’ back began to shake with small tremors, twisting and pressing and forcing himself deeper.   
  
Stiles groaned, clamping down on Derek’s fingers instinctively and yelping the second Derek’s other hand struck his asscheek, muscles fluttering out of sheer reflex. It was enough to loosen him for the split second Derek needed to add a third finger, shoving straight to the knuckle without any warning.   
  
“Look at you,” Derek breathed, palm rubbing against the new welt on Stiles’ rear. “You love it.”  
  
Stiles, gasping, shot Derek a dirty look over his shoulder and reached down to stroke himself. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”  
  
Derek swatted his ass again, growling in response to the sharp and sudden moan that tore itself from Stiles’ lips. He reached for the lube, uncapping it with one hand and squeezing more onto his fingers. “I can smell it on you, how much you want it - can hear your heart going mad for this.” Derek’s fingers made a loud, wet noise when he pulled them out for the last time, watching Stiles’ hole twitching at the loss.  
  
“ _Jesus_ , Derek.” Stiles whimpered, watching Derek slick himself up with one hand. His other hand tossed the lube onto the bed, reaching out with wet fingers to snag Stiles by the hip and drag him closer. He gave little warning, his cock thick and swollen as it nudged Stiles’ entrance. Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, forcing his body to relax when Derek pushed inside of him, feeling the popping sensation when the head breached that first ring of muscles.   
  
“That’s it,” Derek growled softly, stroking Stiles’ flank as if he were trying to calm a skittish animal. Stiles whimpered, focusing on just breathing and not on the way each agonizing centimeter deeper that Derek went seemed to fill him up more and more until it was nearly unbearable.    
  
“- so fucking tight, Stiles.” Derek murmured, arching his body down and kissing the knob on Stiles’ spine where it met the back of his neck. Panting, Stiles forced his eyes open, fingers squeezing the head of his own cock absently when Derek finally bottomed out, balls pressed tight against his ass.  
  
“Move,” Stiles snapped breathlessly, clenching down. Derek hissed, exchanging his kiss for a sharp bite that made Stiles yelp and jerk back. Derek drew out, giving Stiles half a second to register it before he snapped his hips forward in a sharp thrust that nearly knocked the human flat onto his stomach.    
  
It was like breaking the last restraint, that final whimper from Stiles triggering something feral inside of Derek. He shoved Stiles down, reaching out to trap his wrists against the bed and fucking into him with a wild fervor. Stiles cried out, body shuddering and lurching underneath him.   
  
The room was instantly filled with the sound of smacking flesh, Derek pistoning deep inside of Stiles, panting harshly every few seconds when he stopped to roll his hips and grind down before he was thrusting again. Stiles babbled incoherently, cursing and groaning with each breath that was pushed out of him, his cock rubbing into the mattress, smearing and staining the sheets with precum.    
  
Derek shifted his grip on Stiles’ wrists, hands moving to clasp over Stiles’ and thread their fingers together. Stiles gripped back tightly, desperately, rocking into Derek’s thrusts any chance he could, toes curling when his body began to shake with an impending orgasm.   
  
“Ohgod,” Stiles groaned, face crushed into the mattress, pillow knocked aside, “ _ohgodohgodohgod_ -”  
  
“Are you gonna come?” Derek panted, burying his face into the curve of Stiles’ shoulder where it met his throat. Stiles nodded, choking on a whimper when Derek’s hips snapped forward at an increasingly maddening pace. Derek pressed sloppy, heated kisses to the skin beneath his lips, muttering, “Come on, Stiles, _come for me_ ,” as each word was accentuated with a scrape of his teeth, tongue darting out to capture beads of sweat that were dotting Stiles’ flesh. Stiles’ sobs were practically wrenched from his chest, knuckles white with the ferocity that he clutched to Derek’s hands as the burning sensation built and built until everything seized up in a climax so forceful that he couldn’t even breathe.   
  
  
He felt the sharp pinch of Derek’s fangs digging into his skin at the same exact time his orgasm slammed into him, choking and gasping out, “ _teeth,_ ” in a high pitched whine as he spilled onto the sheets from where it was trapped between his stomach and the bed. Derek nipped again, a sudden sting that made Stiles groan and whimper, each pulse of his cock making his entire body spasm. “No- bad, aah **fuck** , bad wolf! No bite! _N-no bite_!” Stiles sobbed, breath hitching, unable to even form much of a coherent demand when Derek was still thrusting inside of him, forcing each spurt out of Stiles’ cock with a forceful snap of his hips. Derek growled, his fangs withdrawing just seconds before he came, biting down on Stiles’ shoulder - but not breaking the skin - and giving aborted half-thrusts through the entirety of it.  
  
It was too much of everything at once, making Stiles cry out as he clenched down around Derek instinctively, his body shaking and sensitive. Derek choked, face buried into the crook of Stiles’ shoulder and exhaling heavily as he came down from his orgasm. They both stilled, Derek halfway inside of Stiles and panting on top of him, their fingers practically cramped together while Derek regained his breath and Stiles tried to put his brain back together. Stiles squirmed, once he’d drifted down from his post-orgasmic high, biting down on his and writhing when Derek started to rub his nose up and down Stiles’ neck and shoulder, sniffling and breathing in his scent.  
  
“Kinda creepy, dude,” Stiles whispered. Derek snorted, nipping Stiles’ shoulder and earning a yelp of surprise as he pulled out and slumped to the side. Stiles rolled onto his back, wriggling up close to Derek and resting his arms on his stomach, heart still thundering in his chest. “Creepy is your thing, though, I totally get it.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Derek tried to stifle back a smirk. “You seem to like it well enough.”  
  
“Yep, _totally_ , I love it. I get _off_ on it, I have this thing where I enjoy dudes with glowing eyes lurking in dark corners and sneaking into my room at random hours of the day. Super sexy. You should grow a beard, and wear a baseball hat - and sunglasses. Dude, you should get a trench coat; this is all to accentuate the creeper vibe, you see.” Stiles gesticulated limply at Derek’s body.  Derek brought an arm down around Stiles’ shoulders, dragging the human into his side.   
  
“I guess you’ll have plenty of time to convince me, then, won’t you?” Derek grinned down at him, expecting excitement from Stiles at the underlying meaning - that Derek was going to give them a chance.  
  
 Stiles, however, was too busy grimacing when his thigh rolled up into the wet, sticky puddle of his own cum and didn’t hear him.  “Dude. _Gross_.” Squirming unpleasantly, it took him a second to register what Derek was saying, and when he did, he snapped his head up so fast that his eyes crossed.  
  
The hesitant grin on Derek’s face was instantly wiped away when Stiles practically climbed onto Derek’s chest and pressed delighted, hyperactive kisses to every part of his face that he could reach.


End file.
